Feel The Way I Do
by makesometime
Summary: Post-ep ficlet for Vs. Taylor watches the crowd at the Harvest Festival. Well, not the crowd, exactly...


A/N: Partly inspired by my moments of worry watching the final scenes of this episode, and partly by mercscilla's prompt of alpha!Taylor or jealous!Taylor.

* * *

><p>Taylor stood in the shadows, watching the festivities taking place in front of him as he waited for his cue to take to the stage.<p>

Well, watching the _festivities_ might have been a bit of an exaggeration.

Watching Wash would have been more accurate. Watching _Malcolm_ even more so.

He was watching the scientist with such a burning rage that he was surprised the man couldn't feel it. Taylor's eyes were practically burning a hole in the back of his head as the scientist spoke to his Lieutenant - _his_ Lieutenant - and she smiled brightly at what Taylor was sure was highly… stimulating conversation.

At least, Wash looked entertained enough. She seemed more at ease than he'd seen her for quite some time.

The fact that he had likely been responsible for her constant state of worry was not lost on him. He never wanted to be the reason she was exhausted from her duties, strung out from having to take control of the colony at a moment's notice, coiled tight with tension for which she had no down time to release.

Yet, despite this, he always _was_ the reason.

She laughed and he could hear it as clearly as if she were standing right next to him. He used to make her laugh like that, back in the early days. She hadn't had much cause to for quite some time.

But _Malcolm_ could make her laugh.

He shifted uneasily as he was beckoned to the stage by one of the festival organisers. If Wash could hear his thoughts right now she'd kick his ass back to the 22nd century.

But still… he regretted being so nice to the man earlier.

#

He gave his speech, as was expected. Meant every word too.

And if he addressed most of it to Wash then, well, that was nothing at all to do with his earlier thoughts. Especially not the eye contact when he spoke about loved ones.

Nope, nothing at all.

He disappeared back up to the control tower balcony once the fireworks had everyone's attention, not lingering to see if Wash returned to her earlier conversation. Instead he leant against the railing, observing quietly as the colourful showers filled the air, thrilling the crowd below.

Some time later, he felt her presence before he saw her approach and tensed automatically. That was new too - normally her familiar occupation of the space to his right would instantly put him at ease.

He had to get a handle on this, before he did something he wouldn't be able to take back.

She stood beside him and silently extended a glass to him. He took it with a smile and an incline of his head, sipping at the liquid to find his favourite alcohol within.

"You have your brooding face on." Wash said eventually, leaning next to him.

He chuckled. "I have one of those?"

"You do, sir." She grinned. "Been seeing it a lot lately." She added quietly.

He nearly apologised, before realising it wasn't a criticism but an expression of concern. To have let the words slip from his lips would have been an admittance of his entirely inappropriate train of thought, an opportunity she would not have missed to press him further.

"Nice speech." She said at length, nursing her drink.

"You've heard it before." He shrugged, accidentally knocking her shoulder with his own.

"Yeah…" She agreed reluctantly. "Not like that though. Felt different, somehow."

He didn't reply to this, not entirely sure how he would. He sensed she was giving him an opening to discuss it further but he didn't feel worthy of taking it, not after the way he'd reacted to watching her innocent conversation.

"You having a good night?" He asked eventually.

"I am now." She replied with a little wince as she looked down at her glass.

"What do you mean?"

She turned her head to look at him cautiously. "Malcolm is a lovely man but… there's only so much I can listen to about dragonflies before I start zoning out."

Nathaniel just stared at her for a moment. "That was you zoning out?"

"Yes…" She said slowly. "Why?"

He grinned as he looked away to the crowd once again. "You're very convincing."

"Had a lot of practice, sir." She said. "You think I'm listening every time you lecture the recruits?"

He laughed now, her easy way of cheeking him setting something inside him to rest. Maybe he was overreacting (though he hardly needed more reasons to worry at the moment). "Good thing we're not on duty, Wash. Hate to have to discipline you for insubordination."

Well, shit.

Those were the wrong words to use _entirely_.

Her deep brown eyes seemed to darken even further in the low light and he found himself completely unable to break her gaze.

Luckily she did so for him, looking down at her glass and clearing her throat quietly. "I should get back. You coming back down?"

He nodded. "In a moment."

She smiled broadly, their earlier awkwardness forgotten. "I might need you to save me from Malcolm again."

He held up his hands defensively. "You're on your own with that one."

She scowled half-heartedly as she backed away but said no more as she turned and left the balcony, making her way to Reynolds and Maddy Shannon. He didn't miss the slightly suspicious look she shot Jim Shannon before engaging the young pair in conversation, and sighed. He hoped his actions hadn't soured their friendship.

Tomorrow he would explain everything to her.

Tonight he was content just to watch her, drink her in. Steal her image for his memory - and his alone.

Somehow he doubted she would mind.


End file.
